At the farm, crankiness is a form of self expression, and this has not been a subdued summer. MCG has loudly uttered Mother-of-the-Year-type statements, such as If you two want to turn me into a drooling idiot, just keep it up. Some of us have proclaimed that the world will end if others of us touch particular CG property. MCG has declared she will not listen to any sentences beginning Sister said. Then came the day that cranky words were said over two boxes of mac and cheese. One exuberantly cranky outburst followed another, a door was slammed, and a window was sacrificed on the altar of crankiness.
At this point, MCG entered the category that Uncle Michael calls "Toxic Mom." Crankies 1 and 2 have made reparations in the form of extra acts of housework. And after two tries, we finally received a tempered-glass window of the correct size. Lydia held the glass while UM nailed in the trim.
Apparently there's a special tool called a nail set to help install finish nails with small heads. Do we have this tool? Take a big guess. But we do have a metal file. You put it over the nail and then whack. Extra points for adapting available tools to do the job.
We spent a month with this empty space between the laundry room and the kitchen, and it afforded us opportunities to perform clever tricks and Marx Brothers-type pantomimes. But now the window is replaced and the cranky incident that broke it has become Amusing Family Lore. MCG could get all literary and talk about literal and metaphorical closure, but she's sure you appreciate her walking away from that temptation.
I have to say one of the highlights of this summer was touching base with you again. You always made me smile back in the day and as I read your blog - you continue to do so. Thanks for being you.
ReplyDeleteJane
I still remember slamming a shower door and Joyce telling me that it would cost NINETEEN dollars to replace. She might as well have said 19 million. Two days and a new shower door later Momma was in a much better temper, all was forgiven and I don't remember HOW in the world I paid for that door!
ReplyDeleteIt really would kill you to use the right tool for the job, wouldn't it? Thank god, you didn't use a butter knife. Love you, Zia
ReplyDelete